The Great Ecstasy of Robert Carmichael

I am liberal. I have always taken pride in my ability to keep a certain intellectual clarity when confronted by a particularly provocative work of art. I love art - whether movies, paintings or novels - and I believe that art is not art unless it provokes some kind of reaction, positive or negative.

Yet I must confess that "the scene" at the end of this film pushed my own flexible limits of stomachability. I won't describe the scene in any detail - you just have to see it yourself - but let me say that I have never, or may never again, be witness to such a finger-curlingly, teeth-clenchingly HORRIBLE act of violence on the big screen.

The visual presentation of the wine bottle moment was shocking enough, yet it was it's complete unpremeditatedness, it's coming like a knife out of a dark room, (even after the rape) that really threw me.

The film finished two hours ago and my head is still reeling. I will not attempt to rationalize or explain the morality or acceptability of such a closing scene: it is a purely subjective exercise, dependant on the viewer's own values and tastes. This was a point made by the writer and director in the heated Q & A which followed. They refused in any way to give an answer to the most prescient question: WHY? And they're right. The whole point is that the film, as a work of art, which, if flawed, I believe it is, does not answer questions but poses them. Questions not about society or the causes of violence, but about art itself. You cannot watch this film without having to deeply reconsider your understanding of the scope of the much-overused term "Art".

Finally, I would like to say that it's a great shame that the only thing people will talk about is the final scene. The rest of the film is a beautifully shot, clever, and above all, authentic take on life in a debilitated British seaside town, not unlike the town I grew up in. If it had somehow ended differently, I am quite sure it would now be receiving rave reviews from those liberal-minded critics who salivate at the mention of a gritty, British, class-driven drama.

But as it is, a lot of good stuff is about to be swallowed in the growing whirlwind of controversy, and, at best, the film will be consigned to 'risque' or 'cult' territory in our cultural estimations. A shame indeed.

So they hyped the violence and it's been branded as sick. Well, the violence is the best bit I'm afraid, but unfortunately the characters are not developed enough to allow us to understand why they go on their (entirely predictable) rampage. This film has a truly dreadful script. We never get a chance to get to know Robert and his actions at the end are just plain pathetic. The acting isn't much better, either, the worst of them being the TV chef and the school teacher. The direction is clumsy, the pace enough to send you to sleep. And what on earth is the school film project all about? A comment on the film itself perhaps? The use of newsreel during the climactic murder is laughable. These guys obviously think they're intellectuals but are hopelessly out of their depth. How on earth they got the great Yorgos Arvanitis to light it I'll never know. And how they got the money to make it in the first place is an even greater mystery. Absolutely awful beyond comprehension.

i would like to say i think this film is soulless empty and devoid of any emotional depth, i don't know if that is the point but i thought it was stunning.

For me the whole point of it was this is what life is like for many, the uber violence of Kubrick clockwork orange was about the future, this is the same in this film but it is about the present.

Those who hate it for this, is a good thing. I personally recognise many of the characters in this film, the fact that they are emotionally underdeveloped is the point.

I thought this film was nothing short of brilliant. It was horrible to watch at times but that doesn't make it a bad film and as for people complaining about a weak supporting cast well ffs i don't think they had a Hollywood budget.

the more films like this the better

Well done Thomas Clay

I saw this movie on the film festival of Rotterdam (jan '06) and followed the discussion between director and public afterwards. Many people reacted shocked and protesting. He will get a lot of negative critics. But: the world is cruel like this, and it's not funny. People don't like it. That itself doesn't mean that the movie is bad. I can see that difference. Don't shoot the messenger that shows us the world outside our 'hubble'! Nevertheless I think this a bad movie. Film-technically it's a good one. Nice shots and script, most good fitting music, great actors. The director pretends to make a psychological movie, - the psychology however is of poor quality. Describing such a powerful violence itself is not the art. The art would be a powerful description of the psychological process behind that violence. How does a shy boy come to such a cruelty? The director pretends to describe that, - but is not good in that.

The director used several times the word the 'selfishness' of people, mentioning for instance the teacher. Only: this teacher wasn't selfish,- just someone in several roles, caring for his pupils, ánd worried about his script. I think it's a simplification to call him selfish. The atmosphere in the village is creepy, and the mother made awful mistakes ('you terribly let me down…') but it doesn't become believable for me, that there is caused súch a lot of pain, that the shyest boy comes to such terrible things. In fact, reality is far more complex than the way, this film describes – and it needs far better descriptions. The interesting thing would be: how does it work? Describe that process for me please, so that we understand.

With the written phrase on the end, the director said to point to an alternative way of life. It was the other extreme, and confirmed for me that director and scriptwriter are bad psychologists, promoting black/white-thinking. The connection between violence in films and in society has been proved. Use such a violence gives the responsibility to use it right. There are enough black/white-thinkers in the world, causing lots of war and misery. I hope, this movie won't be successful.

I am always wary of taking too instant a dislike to a film. Look at it a month later and you might see it differently, or dig it up after 50 years in a different continent and some cult followers find something stylistically remarkable that went unnoticed at first. After sitting through The Great Ecstasy of Robert Carmichael at its UK premiere, it came as no surprise to me that I found the question and answer session afterwards more interesting than the film itself. Shane Danielsen (Artistic Director of the Edinburgh International Film Festival), aided by the film's director and producer, gave a spirited defence of a movie than received an overall negative response from the audience. Edinburgh Festival audiences are not easily shocked. Only one person walked out in disgust. The criticisms of the film included very articulate and constructive ones from the lay public as well as an actor and a woman who teaches M.A. film directors. This was not an overly 'shocking' film. There was a degree of uninterrupted sexual violence, but far less extreme than many movies (most actual weapon contact was obscured, as were aroused genitals). The audience disliked it because they had sat through two hours that were quite boring, where the acting standards were not high, where the plot was poor, predictable and drawn out, and where they had been subjected to clumsy and pretentious film-making on the promise of a controversial movie. Metaphors to the war in Iraq are contrived, over-emphasised and sloppy (apart from a general allusion to violence, any deeper meaning is unclear); and the 'fig-leaf' reference Marquis de Sade, as one audience member put it, seems a mere tokenistic excuse for lack of plot development towards the finale.

We have the story of an adolescent who has a certain amount going for him (he stands out at school for his musical ability) but takes drugs and hangs out with youths who have little or nothing going for them and whose criminal activities extend to rape and violence. When pushed, Robert seems to have a lot of violence locked inside him.

The film is not entirely without merit. The audience is left to decide how Robert got that way: was it the influence of his peers? Why did all the good influences and concern from parents and teachers not manage to include him in a better approach to life? Cinematically, there is a carefully-montaged scene where he hangs back (whether through too much drugs, shyness, a latent sense of morality or just waiting his turn?). Several of his friends are raping a woman in a back room, partly glimpsed and framed in the centre of the screen. In the foreground of the bare bones flat, a DJ is more concerned that the girl's screams interrupt his happy house music than with any thought for the woman. Ultimately he is a bit annoyed if their activities attract police attention. The stark juxtaposition of serious headphones enjoyment of his music even when he knows a rape is going on points up his utter disdain in a deeply unsettling way. Robert slumps with his back to us in the foreground.

But the rest of the film, including its supposedly controversial climax involving considerable (if not overly realistic) sexual violence, is not up to this standard. Some people have had a strong reaction to it (the filmmakers' stated intention: "If they vomit, we have succeeded in producing a reaction") but mostly - and as far as I can tell the Edinburgh reaction seems to mirror reports from Cannes - they feel, "Why have programmers subjected us to such inferior quality film-making?" Director Clay Hugh can talk the talk but has not developed artistic vision. His replies about holding up a mirror to life to tell the truth about things that are swept under the carpet, even his defence that there is little plot development because he didn't want to do a standard Hollywood movie - all are good answers to criticisms, but unfortunately they do not apply to his film, any more than they do to holding up a mirror while someone defecates, or wastes film while playing ineptly with symbols. Wanting to try and give him the benefit of any lingering doubt, I spoke to him for a few minutes after the screening, but I found him as distasteful as his movie and soon moved to the bar to wash my mouth out with something more substantial. There are many truths. One aspect of art is to educate, another to entertain, another to inspire. I had asked him if he had any social or political agenda and he mentions Ken Loach (one of the many great names he takes in vain) without going so far as to admit any agenda himself. He then falls back on his mantra about his job being to tell the truth. I am left with the feeling that this was an overambitious project for a new director, or else a disingenuous attempt to put himself on the map by courting publicity for second rate work

Andy Warhol could paint a tin of soup and it was art. Clay Hugh would like to emulate the great directors that have made controversial cinema and pushed boundaries. Sadly, his ability at the moment only extends to making high-sounding excuses for a publicity-seeking film.